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GULLIVER
The cafeteria is buzzing when Izzy and I push through the doors. Her hair is a little mussed from where my hands have been tangled in it, and her lips look plump and kiss-swollen. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that we’ve been making out, and I don’t even try to keep the grin off my lips as I hold her hand tightly and lead her across to our table.
Pulling out a chair for her, I drag my own seat closer to hers and sit down, draping my arm across the back of her shoulders and absently kneading the muscles in her neck.
“We ordered for you,” Kip says.
“Thanks, man. What did you get us?” I ask.
“The sea bass for you and the gnocchi for Izzy.”
“Thank you, Kip, you’re an angel, I’m starving,” Izzy says sweetly.
Even though my ring is on her finger and my arm is curved possessively around her shoulders, I still feel a flash of annoyance at the smile she’s giving him. I shouldn’t be jealous. She’s been naked in my bed for the last three nights, but even though it’s obvious she wants me sexually, her “are we friends” speech has left me wondering if I’m imagining the connection I thought we shared.
She likes the way I touch her. She enjoys spending time with me, and more and more, she’s allowing me to be there for her when she needs support and reassurance. She gave me her virginity, for fuck’s sake. But I’m starting to question if her behavior is less about it being me touching her and more about anyone showing her care and affection. She’s been starved of basic human contact since her family forced her to become Penelope 2.0 over three years ago.
I’ve told her multiple times that what’s happening between me and her isn’t fake anymore, but I don’t think she feels the same way. She’s mine, but I’m terrified that I’ll wake up one day and find her gone without a word.
The room is loud, and I’m sure someone is asking me a question or expecting me to listen to what they’re saying, but I just don’t seem to be able to look away from the enigma sitting next to me. Even after all the time we’ve spent together in the last week, I don’t really understand her. She’s simple yet complex, beautiful yet completely unaware, and she’s changed me from happily being the villain to desperately hoping to be her hero.
When our food arrives, I absentmindedly eat, but my focus is on her. I can practically feel her anxiety, but I have no idea what else to do to make her feel better. This isn’t a game anymore, but ignorantly I thought we could have some fun while we messed with Penelope and fucked with her life.
I’ve always thought the Rhodeses were manipulative assholes, but I’m starting to realize they’re actually fucking psychos. They beat the shit out of Izzy, then went out to dinner like nothing happened. She’s been gone for a week, and the only contact she’s had from them was a single text message reminding her of her obligations to her family.
And now her mom thinks she’s just going to go home after school, like everything is just fine and fucking dandy. A part of me wants to carry Izzy out of here and hide her from her crazy family, but I know that no matter how much I want to protect her, she needs to be in that chemistry class this afternoon. Her mom thinks she’s the one in control, but this is the turning point—something to send a clear message to her family that she isn’t playing their game anymore.
By the time we get to the science lab, her steps have slowed to barely a shuffle, and the tension emanating from her is almost palpable. She’s scared, and the caveman inside of me is telling me that I need to find the source of her fear and kill it. But as much as I wish I could, I can’t murder her parents and twin sister.
“Do you want me to make you come?” I blurt a little too loudly.
“What?” she hisses, turning to stare open-mouthed at me.
“I don’t like seeing you this fucking stressed. I can see it coming off you in waves. The best ways I know to relieve tension are smoking weed and orgasming. I don’t have any weed, so do you want me to make you come? It’ll take the edge off.” I smirk.
When the first giggle curls from her lips, I feel like the fucking king of the world. As more giggles follow, her entire body relaxes, and she wraps her arms around my waist and melts into me.
“Is that a yes to the orgasm? Because I think I can make you scream before we’re even late for class.”
“Sex at school is probably frowned upon.” She chuckles, curling her arm around my back and pressing herself into my side.
“You’re an Elite now. You can basically do whatever you want,” I whisper conspiratorially.
“We’re friends, not friends with benefits, remember? So, we should probably take orgasms of any kind off the table.”
A rough, guttural grunt rings from my throat. “I think you misunderstood, Little Ghost. We’re not friends with benefits, because that makes what we have sound casual and shallow. We’re a twisted, fucked-up lie that morphed into a guilt-ridden truth. But make no mistake, Izabella, you’re mine. I won’t share you, I won’t pretend anymore, and I have no intention of giving you up. Right now, I don’t know what label to give us—really fucking complicated maybe—but we’re one hundred percent undeniably involved.”
Not wanting to give her a chance to argue or protest, I drop my arm over her shoulder and lead her into the lab and up to the teacher’s, Mr. Long’s, desk.
“Mr. Long,” I say with a bright faux smile. “Have you met Izabella? She’s transferred into this class, so now you’ve got both of the Rhodes twins to imbue with your scientific wisdom.
“Ah, yes, Miss Rhodes. Principal Smith did inform me that you would be joining us, please find a seat.”
“Thank you, sir,” Izzy says politely.
Leading her to the back of the class, I glare at Milton Caldwell—who normally sits on the desk to my right—until he packs up his laptop and moves to an empty seat in the front row. I motion for Izzy to take my usual desk, and I take the now vacant one on her right, while Davis slides into his desk on Izzy’s left.
I feel the ripple of anxiety that’s emanating from the girl beside me when her gaze lands on her sister’s usual desk. Although the majority of the students are already here, Penelope’s seat is empty, and I wonder if she’ll show up for class or if she thinks the texts from their mother will have Izzy falling back into line.
